The True Young Master's Metaphysical Road to Fame in Showbiz Ch. 52

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"Everyone will start seeing you in a new light, treating you like a treasure. That way, your parents won't favor Chi Qingning anymore!"

"No one will be able to steal your spotlight!"

Chi Qingzhou let out a small hum, pausing for a moment before asking, "And what about my parents?"

System: "Huh? What?"

Chi Qingzhou: "What will happen to my parents?"

The system didn't quite get his meaning and answered in confusion, "Didn't I just say? They'll value you and treat you like a treasure."

Chi Qingzhou let out a soft chuckle.

So in the system's eyes, his parents and older brother were never considered the true culprits.

Even though the rumors about him being an illegitimate child were spread by his older brother, with his parents' silent approval, in the end, the blame was still pinned on Chi Qingzhou.

Chi Qingzhou asked, "Is this how you handled your previous hosts too?"

The system responded matter-of-factly, "Of course! I've got loads of experience—you can totally trust me."

Chi Qingzhou narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing at the nearly transparent sphere floating in midair with a deep, unreadable expression.

So this was the system's so-called "revenge arc"—groveling in submission, using self-deprecation to gain the sympathy of his abusers.

He wondered how the previous hosts must have felt when they walked down this path, sinking themselves deeper into the mud.

Chi Qingzhou slowly let go of his head, lowering his arms. Then, shifting his gaze to his hulking foster father, he grabbed hold of the leather belt swinging down toward him.

The system, which had been in the middle of another persuasion attempt, was so shocked its code nearly collapsed.

"...?!! HOST, WHY CAN YOU MOVE?!"

The white mist thickened.

The restless revenants locked onto their target, charging straight at Chi Qingzhou.

But Chi Qingzhou seemed to have shut down completely, staring blankly into the distance, showing no reaction at all.

Xing Shuangzhan frowned, raising his voice, "Qingzhou, snap out of it!"

No response.

Xing Shuangzhan's eyes darkened slightly as he focused on their contract bond, reaching out to sense Chi Qingzhou's soul.

The half of his soul inside the shadow—completely normal. In fact, it was practically thriving, eager to rush out.

The half trapped inside his body—barely responding, as if confined to another space entirely.

Xing Shuangzhan's face instantly darkened.

There was no way Zhu Yantong was responsible for this.

Forget Zhu Yantong—even if his master had ascended to a god-like state, he still wouldn't be a match for Xing Shuangzhan.

That left only one possibility—the mysterious system that had bound itself to Chi Qingzhou.

Xing Shuangzhan let out a cold laugh, his usual laid-back demeanor vanishing entirely.

Fueled by a surging rage, he stepped out from the shadows. In an instant, a wave of overwhelming ghostly energy erupted, engulfing the entire Yinping Village.

In the mountains and forests, wandering spirits and lesser demons shrieked in terror, their cries echoing one after another.

Every livestream broadcast was affected by this surge of ghostly energy. Aside from the celestial masters from the Xuanshu Association and the Paranormal Bureau members that Shen Wenshu had brought in, all other viewers fell under a ghostly illusion, their expressions turning dazed and vacant.

Xing Shuangzhan glanced in the direction where the dark energy was swirling. Taking a step forward, he grabbed hold of a revenant lunging at Chi Qingzhou and effortlessly twisted its head off.

His gaze was frigid, his blood-red pupils gleaming with eerie intensity. His fingers clenched—the revenant's head instantly crumbled into dust.

The ghostly energy, sharing the same origin as him, was drawn toward him, surging over like a tidal wave.

He followed the direction where the ghostly energy was gathering, taking a few steps forward. Wherever he passed, the living corpses crumbled into dust within seconds.

Hundreds of meters away, Zhu Yantong sensed something was off. He instinctively took a few steps back, glancing around warily, his heart pounding with unease.

He was a bit far from the farmhouse, so he couldn't see exactly what was happening over there, but he could feel the number of living corpses dwindling at an alarming rate.

Thinking about what these living corpses were made from, his face twitched.

That ghostly energy was something his master had painstakingly collected while he was still alive. It was incredibly powerful, but once used, it couldn't be recovered—every wisp lost was gone forever.

Losing this many living corpses all at once? That hurt. A lot.

But the situation was critical. No matter how much he hated the loss, he didn't have time to dwell on it.

Ghostly energy wasn't more important than his life!

Making a swift decision, Zhu Yantong immediately ordered the remaining living corpses nearby to return and prepare to cover his retreat.

At the same time, the shadow of Chi Qingzhou, which had been pinned down by Xing Shuangzhan, slowly opened a pair of peach-blossom eyes identical to the real Chi Qingzhou's. Then, it stood up from the ground.

This was the other half of Chi Qingzhou's soul—essentially no different from the real Chi Qingzhou.

Except, in its current shadowy form, it had lost all human traits, becoming a unique existence teetering between life and death.

The shadow's lips curled into a faint grin, a trace of amusement in its expression. It glided effortlessly along the path paved by Xing Shuangzhan's ghostly energy, swiftly merging into the shadows of nearby objects. In the blink of an eye, it had already shifted hundreds of meters forward.

A sudden chill crawled up Zhu Yantong's spine as he commanded the living corpses. His entire body tensed with alarm, instincts screaming danger. Almost without thinking, he threw himself forward, rolling to the ground.

As he dodged, his hand shot toward his waist, yanking out a dagger with an eerie blue glow. With all his strength, he stabbed backward!

...Nothing.

The blade didn't hit anything.

As if there was truly nothing behind him—as if he had just stabbed empty air.

Zhu Yantong's expression slowly froze.

His eyes darted sideways, his movements sluggish, his mind struggling to process.

A figure—one that couldn't quite be called human—rose from his own shadow.

All credit goes to the original author
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